A Brief Genealogy of the House of Black
by malfoyforever
Summary: Bellatrix, Andromeda, Narcissa, Sirius, Regulus. Tonks, Draco. Scorpius, Teddy. Marauder Era to the Next Generation. Three generations - who all have their own stories. Welcome to the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black. Drabbles/One-shots. HIATUS.
1. A Baby Sister: Bellatrix and Andromeda

Bellatrix and Andromeda

The rain tapped against the window in the dark, spacious house. It was on the second floor, on the single wall where the vines hadn't been trimmed, for they had been there for as long as the House of Black had existed officially.

Two young girls were rowing again. The first one, a dark girl with heavily lidded dark eyes and black curls, was taunting her younger sister. Her younger sister was crying and tugging at her soft brown braids, tied by red silk ribbons.

"_Bella_! Give me my dolly!" she howled.

Bellatrix smiled innocently and rushed to the window, opening it. "Come and get it!" she said in honey sweet tones. "Or is little Andie too _fwightened_ to climb down?"

Her sister growled and pounced on her, but her violent outburst was unnecessary. Bellatrix was suspended upside down, as if by an invisible hook, and Andromeda shrieked with delight. The dark girl hit the ceiling and shouted, "I'll get you for this one!"

Suddenly, they heard big, heavy steps from their hand-carved staircase. The elder fell in a heap on the floor, got up, and went back to sit on her bed, glaring at her sister but not daring to make another move, while Andromeda tensed, bit her lip, and went to recuperate her doll, pressing it against her chest, for it was their father coming.

Cygnus's mental instability was legend in their family, one of the marks that showed that interbreeding could cause nefast damages to later descendants. The two Black sisters were all afraid of him, and even Druella kept a safe distance from her husband during his bad days. She had taught her children to do the same; it was one of the primary reasons they never descended to the main floor other than during mealtimes and when demanded.

He opened the door, ran a hand through his long dark hair while his dark eyes surveyed the bedroom, and then he smiled, though not reassuringly. "I heard commotion upstairs. Would you girls enlighten me on what had happened? Perhaps you, Bellatrix?"

Bellatrix regarded him calmly and Andromeda had to admire her courage. "We were rowing, Father; however now all is well."

Cygnus sighed; perhaps it was one of his better days. "You girls know well that fighting is not permitted in my house. Bellatrix, Andromeda, you two are lucky, as I am in a remarkably good mood today, because you have a new baby sister, so it will go unpunished, just this once."

The girls looked at each other, grinning. "Will we get to visit Mummy in St Mungo's, then, Father?" inquired Andromeda. "And the new baby?"

"Yes." Cygnus glanced at their wardrobe and called, "Jackie!" A young house-elf appeared and stared at his master. "Master called?"

"Of course he did. Jackie, see to that Bellatrix and Andromeda get properly dressed for this atrocious weather. I will be waiting downstairs."

While Jackie dressed them, Bellatrix and Andromeda chatted about how the new baby would look like, all argument seemingly forgotten. However when they walked out, clad in fancy coats, Bella whispered in her sister's ear, "I'm still not finished with you, Andromeda Elladora Black."

Andromeda was so excited at the prospect to be an older sister able to boss around a younger one that she didn't hear her sister. Once they got to the hospital, they followed their father quietly until he opened the door to one of the rooms and said, smiling, "You may enter now, girls."

Druella was sitting on the bed, eating her breakfast, and something like a grin flittered across her haughty Rosier features. She had blue-green heavily lidded eyes and curly pale blond hair with golden streaks in it. "Hello, Bella, Andie," she greeted warmly when she saw them.

"Mummy!" cried Andromeda, and even Bellatrix let her guard drop. They rushed over to hug her while Cygnus kissed his wife's forehead. "Are you feeling well, darling?" he asked.

"I am fine, Cygnus," said Druella. "I've never felt better, really." She turned to the girls. "So, did you want to see your new baby sister?"

"Yes!"

She gestured to the crib next to her. "She is probably sleeping in there."

Cygnus bent down and picked her up. The baby's eyes were closed, but then she opened her eyes. They were a striking shade of icy sky blue, framed by pale eyelashes, and the little bit of hair on her head matched Druella's colour. "Meet Narcissa Corona Black," he said.

The older Black sisters looked at each other and unknowingly, made an identical mental vow to always protect their sister and be there for her.

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><p><strong>I decided to re-submit this, as it would be a waste if I deleted this story, and I've gotten a few other ideas for this. So, this fic will not only include Sirius and his generation (Bellatrix, Andromeda, Narcissa, Regulus), but also Draco, Tonks, Scorpius, and maybe even Teddy. <strong>

**Please read and review!**


	2. Fascination: Bellatrix

Bellatrix

Bellatrix was drawn to the Dark Arts as a bee was to flowers, from the moment she stepped into her father's private library.

She had been eight then, bolder and wilder than she had been younger, and had dragged Andromeda along with her, thinking that if they got caught, Andromeda would get the blame. All parents, wheter good or bad, could not help having favourites, and Cygnus's was Bellatrix while Druella's was Narcissa. Andromeda was the loner. Bellatrix didn't care: let her be. It was her own fault that she wasn't an exemplary Black.

There were shelves and shelves filled with dusty old volumes, with faded gold letters and peeling covers. Bellatrix inhaled deeply, and Andromeda spoke up at once. "We shouldn't be here, Bella," she said sagely. "You know that if you shan't obey Father, he will subject you to the Cruciatus Curse yet again?"

Bellatrix raised her eyebrows and replied, "If you continue chattering on, it will be you in the fires of hell, and not me." She spotted a ladder and couldn't help smiling. "Don't you have any sense of adventure, Andie? You are starting to resemble a badger."

"_You_ are starting to resemble a Gryffindor," she muttered under her breath. "Daring, chivalrous, with not the slightest brains."

Fortunately for her, Bellatrix hadn't heard her. "Watch the door for me while I climb up the ladder. I want to see the volume at the top."

The volume in question was not faded or peeling, but perfectly binded with a beautiful scarlet leather and titled Magick Moste Evile.

"Bella-" started Andromeda, but nothing could change her mind once Bellatrix set herself on a pursuit, as it remained true many years later for the murders of Sirius Black and Nymphadora Tonks, her blood traitors cousin and niece.

"Stay," she ordered and started climbing. Once she was sufficiently close to the book, she set in mind to levitate it to the ground safely, and it did.

Bellatrix and Andromeda were seen exiting, but by that time, _Magick Moste Evile_ had managed to land onto the girl's bed. None of the two sisters had managed to avoid punishment (the Cruciatus Curse, as the younger had predicted), but Bellatrix's mind was made.

The curses and torture methods mentioned in the old volume fascinated her. They seemed so powerful, so infaillible - and infaillability was exactly what Bellatrix needed.

So as the Dark Lord branded her with the Dark Mark, she did not writhe, nor scream, even at the pain, for she had gotten what she desired - a membership for forever and ever to the typhoon of the many, varied, ever-changing, and eternal Arts of hell.


	3. Before and After Hogwarts: Sirius

Sirius

When Sirius went back to his story in his mind, two periods always came up: there was _Before Hogwarts_, and then there was _After Hogwarts_.

_Before Hogwarts_ was everything that had happened to him before, well, Hogwarts. It pretty much consisted of learning pureblood values, respecting them, and getting punished over the littlest things such as being polite to Muggle-borns. There were many visits from his family during that stage: the Black sisters.

Purebloods, like every other kind of magical folk, were very different one from the other. Bellatrix, for example, was the wildest. She was the one with the most charisma, the one that could put you to sleep with a single glare. She was the one with the darkest magic. She was the one with the cold-blooded killing gene, the one that could torture as well as any adult by her fifth year with the Cruciatus Curse. She was the one Sirius had been the most afraid of, as a child, the one that showed that beauty and ability combined could turn you bad.

Andromeda was the opposite. She was quiet, kind, and patient, the one who would entertain he and Regulus by reading them fairy tales, the one that brought them to feed ducks as toddlers. She was also beautiful, in Sirius's opinion, and so resemblant to Bellatrix physically that he marveled over how two sisters could be so different.

Narcissa was the baby of the sisters, the one they were all willing to stand up for. She was cold, unemotional, and the only quality that she possessed besides brown-nosing, cunning, and the standard Black mental and physical traits was her capability to hinder insults in a most subtile way. Sirius was always cautious. With her, you could seldom tell between her moods and he knew that she possessed a prodigal skill as a witch.

Sirius hated those visits. He dreaded going upstairs with the sisters and Regulus, spending hours cooped up in his bedroom during which Bellatrix would make nasty comments on him, during which Narcissa would smirk and speak quietly in her high, cold voice, during which Andromeda would pretend to agree with them (Sirius never figured out why she did that, exactly).

_After Hogwarts_ was the period in his life during which he flourished the most. He loved the freedom that being in Gryffindor gave to him from his family, he loved fooling around with James and Remus, loved teasing little Peter, loved becoming Animagi, loved raging the constant war against Snivellus. He loved the castle: its many passages, the lake, the giant squid, the dormotories, the common rooms, the portraits, the ghosts. He loved being part of something bigger than the loud arguments at home. He loved creating the Marauders' Map; he loved the visits to Hogsmeade.

_After Hogwarts_ was also the dark period during which they had lived for eleven years, the war, joining the Order with James, Lily, and the others.

He supposed _After Hogwarts_ was his imprisonment in Azkaban as well. As he struggled to bear his worst sin, the sin that had killed of Prongs and dear Lily-flower, the sin that had orphaned little Harry, the sin that had caused him to _help_ Voldemort, he thought about Gryffindor.

Gryffindor was the best House in his opinion, the House of the brave and the daring, and he agreed wholeheartedly to Godric Gryffindor's legacy, except for one thing. It didn't _not matter_, of who you were born; for he, Sirius Orion Black, had been born in the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black, and everyone knew that the family's good days had long since gone. His birthright was, most unfortunately, to be cursed.


	4. That Little Spark: Andromeda

Andromeda

"Black, Andromeda!"

The severe-looking Professor called her name as the eleven year-old girl walked slowly to the stool. She was tall, with brown heavily lidded eyes and curly soft brown hair that fell to her shoulders effortlessly. Several older boys turned to admire her poise and her gracefulness, even compare it to that of her older sister, who sat proud and attentive on her bench on her Slytherin House.

The Hat was dropped over her head and was silent for a few seconds.

"Why, hello, dear," it said.

"Hello," said Andromeda, who was more nervous than she looked.

"You do have many qualities displayed for each House, you know that? You have Hufflepuff qualities-"

"Please, not Hufflepuff. My parents and sisters would be horrid to me."

"I guess that the same would go for Gryffindor, then. But you could be in Ravenclaw," the Hat paused. "My dear girl, you need not to fret about your Sorting. Your parents, it seems, demand too much of you; surely they won't understand if you end up in the House of the Eagle, however, they won't like you better if you go into Slytherin, trust me. I've had many of these cases."

Andromeda had to agree with the logic in his arguments. She asked, "So where would I go?"

"Do you _really_ want to be a Slytherin?"

"Yes. Yes, I really do."

"Hmm. Surely - oh, now I know. That little spark - all right. SLYTHERIN!"


	5. Malfoy, the Insensitive Brat: Narcissa

Narcissa

"Where's… Where is Laeticia?"

Narcissa Black entered the compartment in which two of her best friends – not cronies, unlike Malfoy she had friends – sat in the far left, looking glum as Sheila fanned herself with _Witch Weekly_. The windows were rolled open.

"You haven't heard?" said April Rosier, her cousin. Her chocolate brown eyes peered at her worriedly.

"Of course I hadn't heard," snapped Narcissa, a bit harsher than she had intended. "I was staying at our summer house in France, remember? Rotting away in the horrible sun in the bikinis Bella had bought me and Andie in a gleeful shopping spree."

"I would have been thankful, if I were you, Black," remarked Sheila Parkinson, scowling at her with her hard, pug-like face. She then rolled her eyes. "Oh, my apologies. You're a Black – forgive me, I forgot."

Wordlessly, ignoring their companion, April tossed Narcissa a rolled-up edition of the Daily Prophet. The blonde girl gasped.

"Ticia's been – poisoned?" her icy blue eyes widened.

April nodded, but before she could add something else, a snide voice sounded.

"Of course Selwyn was poisoned, Black," Malfoy sneered at her. "Can you not read?"

His crony, a heavy-set, dimwitted troll by the name of Martin Bulstrode, snickered dully. The boy at his other side, Sylvain Nott, raised an eyebrow, looking amused.

Narcissa glared at him and threw the newspaper into his face.

"You insensitive _brat_!" she yelled. "My friend's been poisoned, and all you do is _sneer_?"

"You can say shame on me all you want, Black," Malfoy retorted coolly. "Bellatrix and Andromeda are not here to protective you."

"Oh, and now you think I'm a helpless little girl?"

Narcissa put her hands on her hips, and had an urge to spit at his face, but of course it would get round, and she wouldn't want her father to lay a hand on her like he had done with Bellatrix when he had found out about her and Rodolphus Lestrange, without his consent. Cygnus had been getting awfully worse lately.

April tugged at her arm. "Don't," she whispered. "Malfoy could retaliate harder – we're not Gryffindorks."

Malfoy snickered. "'Course you aren't, Rosier – though I'm tempted to say you are, with your lack of brains and all."

"Fuck you," Narcissa sneered. "Just sod off, will you?"

"Watch your language, pretty," he retorted, crossing his arms. "You know, a bit of blasphemed language won't make me go away."

Narcissa sighed loudly at that. Her following move would be considered as brutish, but Malfoy was like a fly that wouldn't go away.

"_Tarantallegra_!"

"See you at school, Malfoy, Bulstrode, Nott," she smiled sweetly, and closed the compartment door, where April and Sheila were howling with laughter at Malfoy's pathetic manner of trying to rid himself of the Dancing Legs Jinx, despite themselves.

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><p><strong>Next up, we have - Explanations: Tonks <strong>

**After that - Need and Right to Know: Andromeda **

**Please read and review!**


	6. Explanations: Tonks

Tonks

"Daddy," little Nymphadora asked after her father closed her favorite book of fables, "Why did Mummy look sad when I asked her about her family?"

Ted Tonks's fingers ran through his daughter's now-brown hair as he swallowed, biting back the harsh telling-offs he desired to feed to the Black family. He forced himself to look into her Andromeda-colored eyes.

"'Dromeda's family is… not nice," he said lamely.

"You mean, they're mean?"

"Yeah," Ted nodded. Best let Dora ask the questions.

"So who's Mummy's family?"

Ted knew the exact reason why she was asking: her day school was running a project for Dora's class that consisted in producing simple family trees. His mother, Maude, had gladly helped her for their branch of the tree, but it seemed that Andromeda had subtly refused.

He understood why she would do that, but he had always valued the Hufflepuff principle of honesty; he would not lie, nor would he openly hide these things from his daughter.

"Wait a moment," Ted told her, while she nodded. He winked. "Don't you dare fall asleep in my absence, young lady."

The sound of her giggles followed him as he crossed through the hallway.

Thankfully, Andromeda was out. Ted returned a few moments later with a few photographs in his hands.

He showed Nymphadora the first one, a yellowed black and white shot of the Black sisters and their parents. He took her hand and carefully pointed at each person. "The tallest girl is Bellatrix… She's your mum's older sister… The shorter girl with braids is Narcissa… She's your mum's younger sister. The girl in the middle is-"

"Mummy!" she exclaimed.

"Her parents are your Grandfather and Grandmother Black… He's Cygnus, and she's Druella…"

Ted flipped through the rest and finally, he sighed, bracing himself for the questioning that would surely ensure.

"Why don't they ever visit?" Nymphadora demanded in an uncanny impression of her mother, pursuing her tiny lips.

"Nymphadora," Ted said (her eyes widened at the sound of her full name). "Your mother's family… I've said before, and I'll say it again… They're not friendly. They are rather… angry at her."

"_Why_?"

"Because… Because she married me."

She frowned, evidently confused. "I don't get it, Daddy."

"Honey," Ted tried a new approach. "Honey, you know about Blood Status, is that right?"

"Yep," Nymphadora answered, sounding almost proud. She knew it was a grown-up thing. "Charlie and Billy told me at the playground."

"Good for them," thank Merlin for the Weasley children. "You see, I'm Muggle-born. Your mummy's as pureblood as Charlie and Billy. Her family, they're mad about Blood Status's importance – so mad that they dislike anyone who doesn't value it on sight."

"So," she whispered, "Mummy marrying you was bad? _I'm_ bad?"

She sounded so tearful that Ted pressed his lips tightly together and closed his eyes. He didn't want his daughter growing up with the looming fear of Blood Status – he could already scarcely prevent the terror You-Know-Who and his troops were instilling in their community."

"No," Ted said firmly, squeezing her small hand. "I'll tell you who're bad, Dora. Do you remember Bellatrix and Narcissa?"

"Mummy's sisters."

"That's right. Bellatrix… She works with You-Know-Who."

"She wears a mask?" asked Nymphadora, sounding frightened now.

"Yes," Ted smoothed her hair in a reassuring manner. "And Narcissa, her husband works with him, too."

"_They're_ bad."

He kissed her forehead gently.

"That's right, sweetheart. That's why your mummy didn't want to tell you about her family. Goodnight, then."

"G'night, Daddy."

Nymphadora yawned as the door and lights closed simultaneously. She clutched her stuffed dragon as she realized something, something that her father had implied.

The bad people were her family, too.

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><p><strong>Next up is - Need and Right to Know: Andromeda<strong>

**After that is - Marked: Draco **

**Please read and review! **


	7. Need and Right to Know: Andromeda

Andromeda

**Note: This is a direct follow-up of Explanations. **

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><p>When Andromeda heard what her husband had told Nymphadora, she confronted him after her daughter's bedtime.<p>

"_Why_ did you tell her?"

Ted was silent for a few moments that seemed like an eternity to her.

"Because she needed to know," he said quietly. "Dora has a right to know – would you prefer that she hear something like that from the Weasley boys?"

Andromeda, who had opened her mouth to retort, now closed it, as Ted was absolutely right.

No matter her efforts, she couldn't keep Dora in the dark forever.

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><p><strong>Next up is - Marked: Draco <strong>

**After that is - A Promise: Narcissa **

**Please read and review!**


	8. Marked: Draco

Draco

For the first time since he had received it at the young age of sixteen, Draco Malfoy unrolled the sleeve of his left arm, and conducted a thorough examination of his forearm.

The Dark Mark was now grey, shrunk twice from its original size. The horrible skull was blurry around its edges, and the snake in its mouth, whose scales had once flashed with pure venom, now looked like nothing more than a child's scribble.

He had always avoided looking at it. He absolutely detested it – he loathed it, he despised it – for it was a sign that he was marked. It was a sign that his innocence, his purity, his youth – his freedom even – had been lost at the tender age of sixteen.

A groan escaped his throat. _Sixteen_. He hadn't even been of age yet when the Dark Lord had ordered him to murder Dumbledore. He had been **sixteen** when the Dark Lord had ordered him to, essentially, destroy his soul, to lose a part of his humanity.

But then again, Malfoys were not humane. Look at his father, rotting away in Azkaban. Blacks were not humane, either; those who were would be disowned. Purebloods, all in all, were not humane. Draco did not count the blood traitors.

For not the first time, he wished that he had not been born as the heir of the Malfoy line. He wished often, and Draco knew it. He was old enough to know that wishing upon the first star in the night sky was childish and naïve, but he did it anyways.

Wishing was a way to forget that he had once been bound to a cruel master. It was a way to forget that he would be remembered, as Weasley had so well put it, as a "two-faced bastard".

It was a way to forget everything, **everything** that had happened during his sixth and seventh years.

Yes, what Draco longed the most for was to forgive and forget.

However, he could not forgive his father for landing himself in prison so he would have this painful reminder burnt upon his left forearm. He could not forget the screams of the tortured as he struggled to not disobey his gleeful, cackling, cold master.

He could not, because he had been marked, like Potter, except he did not have the honor of bearing a lightning shaped scar on his forehead like a crown from the Dark Lord. Instead, he had an ugly, shrunken, filthy tattoo on his left forearm.

Draco Malfoy would be forever marked, and he knew it.

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><p><strong>Next up is - A Promise: Narcissa <strong>

**After that is - Family: Scorpius **

**Please read and review!**


	9. A Promise: Narcissa

Narcissa

Something changed in her sixth year at Hogwarts; somehow, by some miracle, they were no longer _just_ **Narcissa Black** and **Lucius Malfoy**.

They were **Narcissa Black** _and_ **Lucius Malfoy**.

Their relationship consisted of snogging in empty classrooms, whispers of "I love you", "I love you too". It consisted of Narcissa seeing him differently than she had for years, of shared bubble gum, of disapproving looks from Andromeda. There were excited cackles from Bellatrix, eye-rolls from Sheila, and gossip from April.

Narcissa could not say that she was unsurprised when he first asked her to go to Hogsmeade with him. The last time she'd checked, she'd sported a grudge against him since the first year. He had taken pleasure at talking down at her, April, and Sheila – simply because he was a year their senior.

Still, what she had conveyed to him were not simply empty paroles. He confided some of his secrets to her, in turn; he had ambitions to become a Death Eater, between other things.

During that time, Bella had already taken a blessed placing in the Dark Lord's ranks. Narcissa could see what service could do to a person, and their sanity – with Bella it had not been much of a lost, for she had always been a bit wild, unpredictable, like Father – but she did not want his mind to be affected in that way. _Never_.

She was however ashamed at how she had literally begged him to retain his humanity, his sanity, for her sake, in front of the entire Slytherin common room and its occupants.

He had laughed, with the sickly smell of Firewhiskey on his breath, twirled a lock of her blonde hair rather shakily, and demanded, slurring slightly, that Nott pour him another glass of whiskey. The next day, he had woken with a rather nasty hangover.

(It wasn't only Bella who could throw wild parties under old Sluggy's nose).

Narcissa watched his carefully, for the next eight years. She noticed how shadows almost always seemed to find their way under his eyes, how their stormy grey would always glint after particularly tedious "service". She noticed how he looked at his mask and cloak with the high hood with pride.

She learned how to be a Death Eater's wife. She kept her quiet, remained obedient, and gave the Dark Lord the impression that she was particularly dim.

She didn't like it, but it was all survival, wasn't it?

When He disappeared, she was relieved, truth be told. She thought that Draco could grow up safely, in a world of peace of prosperity.

How wrong she was.

She watched, as he struggled with the Dark Lord's deed. She watched as Bella's full insanity and obsessive infatuation with Him were revealed. She thought she was helping Draco when she went to Severus, but her sister had been right; her son, her little baby, her angel, was a man now. She was just His Mother and Lucius the Failure's Wife.

She breathed with relief when Severus reported that Draco's soul had not been torn on Dumbledore's account. She thanked him.

She was on the edge for that whole year, for Azkaban seemed to have made Lucius's worst come out. She worried over his obsession with his hopeless redemptions for his failures and struggled to not fuss over him.

She had to remain strong for her family. Her two boys. Lucius. Draco.

They _needed_ her.

She was relieved when they let Potter and his friends escape because Lucius… Lucius wouldn't have brought about the child's death. She _so_ wanted, she desired to hunt down the Dark Lord, to tear him to shreds when she saw what he had done to her husband… Though she _was_ grateful that none of them had been killed in his mad fury.

She worried, worried during the battle, her Slytherin ruthlessness and determination speaking out in her mind.

_Kill… Dark Lord… Kill. _

She really needed to do… something to the man… no, to the _beast_ that had brought her little dragon to fight **here**, in the pits of hell…

When the Dark Lord ordered her to see if Potter was alive, she did something a Slytherin would have never, ever done. She _lied_ to one of the most talented Legilimens in the century, when he was within killing distance of her.

Her motherly instinct had sounded through her ears at that moment.

_Her two boys. Lucius. __Draco__. _

_They __**needed**__ her. _

She watched, amazed, as Potter began taunting the Dark Lord. She listened as the truth was revealed by the boy. About Severus, and his love for Lily Potter. About Draco, and the Elder Wand.

She watched as the Dark Lord fell. She was among those who cheered when He fell, and she let the weight of Bella's death slowly sink in.

Lucius's grey eyes widened, and then, to her great surprise, he cheered, as well, a smile lighting up his face.

"Free," he murmured hoarsely. "Cissa, we're _free_." He held her against him, running his grimy fingers through her hair. She looked up and saw, in his tired eyes, the tall, charming boy who had managed to worm himself into her heart, who had changed her life at the age of sixteen, and laughed, laughed a laugh she hadn't laughed in years.

"You kept your promise," she said.

He merely looked confused.

She laughed again, and buried her face in his neck.

She smiled, thinking about joining Draco at the Slytherin table, where, in spite of the battle's aftermath, would surely arouse good old memories.

Narcissa Malfoy, née Black, was happy.

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><p><strong>Next up is - Family: Scorpius <strong>

**After that is - Our Mate, the Werewolf: Sirius **

**Please read and review!**


	10. Family: Scorpius

**Note: Megara Malfoy is the illegitimate daughter of Pansy and Draco. She was born a year after the end of the war and raised by Draco and his family. **

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><p>Scorpius<p>

Rose had given him a photograph album for his twentieth birthday, but it was not an ordinary one. There were beautiful labels over the corners that would hold the pictures, with words such as _Joy_ and _Hope_.

Funny as she was, his girlfriend told him (well, practically forced him) to fill it out with photographs. And she wondered _why_ many thought she had a Slytherin streak in her.

Scorpius stumbled upon the label Family on a rainy day, after losing a particularly tedious wizard's chess match against Albus, who had just left. He found himself pondering the meaning of true family.

A family was a group of people who understood, cared, loved you; his first thought was of his grandparents, who had more or less fulfilled these requirements, but shook his head. His grandfather had admitted himself that he had used him a tiny bit at the start; families did _not _use each other.

Unless the Malfoy family was an exception?

How _humorous_, Scorpius thought wryly.

He shook his head at the thought of his parents, as well; Mother began leaving him mostly alone after the age of seven, and Father was nothing if not aloof. The two had never showed any understanding towards him.

His half-sister, Megara, might be an option; however, she took fun in openly mocking him, and scarcely showed any affection.

He closed his eyes and sighed. If Rose had been here, she would have laughed and teased him for his preoccupation over such a trivial matter, like she would have done when they were fifteen, teenagers snogging in empty classrooms and Quidditch locker rooms, his only concerns being getting caught and losing his prefect status.

However, they weren't teenagers anymore; he had stopped being one, essentially, after the accident, that hateful, freakish, accident.

Three years ago, he had said goodbye to his childhood. Forever. He was of age, a mature adult now.

Adults still had families, though.

_**Concentrate**__, Malfoy. _

_Who_ had understood him, cared for him, loved him?

Rose. Albus. Caroline. Patricia. Hugo, Lorcan, Lily. The rest of the Gryffindor Quidditch team. Jasmine, Alcmene.

He then knew exactly which picture to put in.

A few moments later, he returned. In his hand was a shot of that faithful Christmas eve after the accident, the first for that matter, during his sixth year; most of them had stayed over the holidays in reason for the uprisings.

They were in the Gryffindor common room, and thanks to Patricia's mastery in throwing undetected parties, Longbottom had not caught them.

The shot, he was sure, had been taken by Amy – he only saw her twin in the picture, and they were scarcely alone. Most of the students were helping themselves at the small punch stand Patricia (Finnigan, might he add) had set up in the corner, sporting Butterbeer, Firewhiskey, and other drinks that she had smuggled from her parents' tavern.

Turpine Flamber and Jack Carlson, the only remaining members from his Quidditch team in the second year, sat in the corner, snogging. The girls had all taken a liking to mocking his obesity (even Caroline joined in, though it was seldom), but he had somehow managed to tone down a bit, resulting in quite a few adoring looks from them.

Darcy and Kayla were snogging as well, but more in the open, as Albus had remarked that night. Louis was playing Gobstones against Luke Bagman, and appeared to be losing. Scorpius and Rose were sitting cross-legged on the velvety red carpet, where they held bottles of Firewhiskey (it technically wasn't illegal from their part, as their seventeenth birthday had already passed), laughing at something Albus had said. He had his arm slung around Caroline with a silly grin on his face. James was lounging on a sofa with his Hufflepuff girlfriend, Valerie Longbottom, and wore a self-satisfied smirk. Hugo and Lena were playing wizard's chess, Lily watching them with her blue eyes, propped up on her elbows.

The Scamander twins had nicked food from the kitchens again, and though Lorcan wasn't entirely in the picture, Scorpius could still see his dark blonde head on the edge of the frame. Lysander was wearing his Gryffindor scarf, his eyes looking unfocused.

Jasmine and Alcmene, who were both Slytherins, were watching Patricia wearily, as the Irish girl grinned cockily and asked the poor Darcy Thomas to dance with her, to the tune of the latest Weird Sisters song that he remembered was blaring through the speakers.

Scorpius smiled fondly as he remembered that night and slipped the photograph through the golden covers.

"Family," he whispered.

* * *

><p><strong>Next up is - Our Mate, the Werewolf: Sirius <strong>

**After that is - Sacrifice: Regulus **

**Please read and review! **


	11. Our Mate, the Werewolf: Sirius

Sirius

"Remus back yet?" he asked quietly, to James.

James shook his head.

"He should be, by tonight," Peter piped up.

The two black-haired boys frowned at him. They hadn't seen him coming.

"That's what he usually does," the mousy boy shrugged, and took a pack of sweets from his pocket.

"Pete," Sirius smirked, "do you _ever_ stop eating?"

Peter's eyes widened in confusion, or perhaps in happiness at being spoken to, and he said, "I stop to eat to go to the bathroom, sleep, and go to lessons."

James looked bored. "So, the plan is - ?"

"We ambush ole Rem as soon as he gets into the portrait hole and we drag him into our dorm," Sirius said confidently.

"Isn't that a bit mean?" inquired Peter, sounding worried.

James clapped him on the back and grinned. "No, no, no, my dear Pete! We aren't Gryffindors for nothing, you know!" He waggled his finger at him. "Aren't you worried about being transferred into Hufflepuff like all those duffers?"

Frank Longbottom, who had been deep in conversation with Mary McDonald, now looked slightly offended, as his best friend, Alice Fraser, was a Hufflepuff, through and through. He glared at James, who shrugged nonchalantly.

Meanwhile, Peter shook his head, though he did look worried again. "Professor McGonagall said that you can't change Houses, James!"

Sirius snorted. "You listen to Minnie? _Seriously_? _Bollocks_, Peter – you're a riot."

"What he means," James said in what he perceived as a reassuring manner, patting his shoulder, "is that old Minnie's going a bit senile."

"The 'old Minnie' assures that no, she is most _not_ going senile," said a quiet voice from the end of the hallway.

James swallowed subtly as he caught sight of McGonagall standing at the end of the portrait hole, arms crossed, looking most displeased. He put his hands in his pockets and smiled sheepishly, his hazel eyes widening behind his round glasses.

"Hello, Professor," he said. "How's it going?"

McGonagall narrowed her eyes at him. "I assure it is going most well, Mr Potter, and ten points from Gryffindor for disrespect."

"_Ten_? That's _rather_ unfair, lady!"

Beside him, Sirius seemed as if he would wet his pants in laughter. The Head of Gryffindor House directed her hawk-eye stare at him next.

"What are you laughing about, Mr Black?"

"Nothing… Nothing, Min – ma'am."

Peter buried his face in his hands, giggling.

McGonagall sighed loudly, and looked at ceiling.

"Five more years…" she muttered. She then turned her head and called, "You can go in then, Mr Lupin."

Sirius craned his neck to observe Remus closer, to find more proof that he was a werewolf that he might need during the confrontation. He had enough experience in these matters to know that an experience such as this should not be wasted.

As usual, his friend's face was tired-looking. There were dark, almost black circles under his eyes, as there always were, whenever he returned from "visiting a sick family member". His light brown hair was messy, unnaturally messy – unlike James's hair. There were scratches on his face, and a particularly nasty one that had scarred, but still showed as a white line.

Remus blinked and waved sheepishly.

"Hullo," he said in his usual quiet, thoughtful tone. "I'm back from visiting Mum – she's still a bit-"

"No, Rem," Sirius interrupted. "Your mum was _never_ sick."

Remus's face, which was already pale, turned the color of milk, Sirius could have sworn. "N-no, allow me to explain-"

Wordlessly, James and Sirius dragged him up to the dormitory, Peter following.

It was empty – Frank and Benjy knew better than to disturb the Marauders when they had their business.

Sirius tossed a copy of _Lycanthropy_ to Remus.

"Recognize this?"

"I _told_ you, _let_ me explain!" the boy shouted at him, his voice slightly panicked.

James pushed Sirius aside, giving him a "I'll-take-it-from-here" look.

"Remus, old pal," he said quietly, "you can't hide anything from us – we're your friends, we've been together for almost two years already – we won't judge you."

"_Won't_?" Remus's voice cracked. "I don't _care_ if you judge me – our world despises me anyways, so _belt_ it."

Peter frowned. "You _do_ care, Rem," the mousy boy said. "Else you wouldn't be so worked up."

Sirius grinned and gave him a playful punch. "Pete, it's the first time you actually said something intelligent. Good boy."

"Thanks!" Peter beamed.

"Back on subject," James gave them his best McGonagall imitation. "Misters Black and Pettigrew, we have a serious issue here. Mr Lupin does not seem to want to admit his secret." He patted Remus's shoulder. "Mate, what Pete said is true – you care so much that we judge you that you're willing to leave if we do, right?"

Remus bit his lip and kept silent, his brow furrowing.

"I think that's a yes, Jamesie," Sirius shot. He smiled at Remus. "And we _won't_ belt it-"

"Because the whole wizarding world does _not_ despise you," James nodded.

"_We_ don't hate you," Peter added. He looked round. "Right?"

"No," said James with certainty. He gave Sirius a nudge with his elbow. "Mate?"

Sirius hesitated. He had always been raised to believe that all half-breeds were evil, and part of him wanted to owl his parents, to go to Dumbledore, to get away from this monster-

No. No – he had known Remus for more than a year now. Remus, who helped them with their dastardly plans, who was always willing to play Gobstones with him or Peter, who was always willing to help Peter peg down essays, who had served detention with them many a time last year – he was _not_ dangerous.

It wasn't his fault he got bitten. Right?

And anyhow, he _hated_ his family and their stupid beliefs.

"No," Sirius said firmly. "We're your best mates, Rem, and we don't care if you're our mate, the werewolf."

Remus buried his head in his hands and gave a muffled sniffle.

"_Exactly_," James continued, sounding satisfied. "And Frank, Benjy, Alice, Mary, Lily, Marlie – they sure as hell don't hate you either. So don't beat yourself up, Rem."

"It's bad for your health," Sirius grinned. He spread out his arms. "C'mon, let's give ole Moony a man-hug, mates!"

"Moony?" Remus looked up with red-rimmed eyes.

The two black-haired hugged him tightly, with Peter joining in clumsily.

"Our new nickname for you," James said, beaming. "Plain old Rem wouldn't do for a big, bad, hairy wolf, would it?"

Sirius rolled his eyes. "As if _Moony _were scary, Jamesie." He made sure Remus wasn't too upset by their jokes, and then added, "And I came up with it, so I get the credit, right, Moony?"

Remus smiled wider than any of them had seen him do so. "Yeah," he said softly, "Yeah."

Peter tugged at his sleeve.

"Now let's go play wizard's chess!"

"Sure," the black-haired boys agreed, and they frog-marched the two others out of their dormitory, back to the common room.

* * *

><p><strong>I'm rather proud of myself - don't write the Marauders very often. This was partly inspired by one of ChoCedric's fics on this matter. <strong>

**Next up is - Sacrifice: Regulus **

**After that is - Forever and ever: Andromeda **

**Please read and review!**


	12. Sacrifice: Regulus

Regulus

"Oh, no, Nott – I assure you, I am _perfectly_ human. I have merely taken a road farther than most to attain, I hope, a most promising immortality."

So were the words spoken by the Dark Lord as he leered, torturing the Death Eater Bryce Nott, who writhed and screamed injures on the ground. Bellatrix had a truly evil, twisted smile as she contemplated him. Malfoy and Avery were watching, but Regulus had a sense that they were disgusted, but too much of cowards to say anything. He, himself, was struggling to not puke at the sight of his comrade being tortured by their master.

These words rang through his head, ran through his head as he prepared to leave Rosier Manor. Evan had left the manor to the use of the Dark Lord and his Death Eaters – and it was indeed being used in the manner the heir of the Rosier line had intended.

_I'm going to bring down the Dark Lord. _

The moment he had that absurd, naïve thought, Regulus laughed, out loud. He must have been mad, mad like his dear cousin Bella to think such thoughts. Bringing down the Dark Lord! He was merely a minion in his army that would soon include thousands…

However, Regulus was not the coward many of the Death Eaters were. No, he was less soft than his brother Sirius thought he was… The moment he had gotten home, he had asked Kreacher to bring him all the volumes on the Dark Arts in the elusive library at Aunt Dru and Uncle Cygnus's home, and he had researched.

What he had found… What Regulus had found was not a surprise. He had long suspected that the Dark Lord was not entirely – forgive him – human, and this proved it.

_**Horcrux**__: A Horcrux is a very powerful object in which one conceals a fragment of his or her soul for the mere purpose of attaining immortality. Creating a Horcrux allows one to gain the ability of resurrections, should their body be destroyed, perish, or succumb to the weaknesses of humanity – creating multiple Horcruxes may result in near immortality. However, the creation can diminish the creator's humanity and even physically disfigure them. _

So, the ambitious and determined Slytherin he was had concealed a plan, a plan that would surely result in his own destruction. This was where the problem was. Slytherins _could_ make sacrifices – they were part of life, after all. However, snakes also valued their lives. Very much. And they would not sacrifice themselves for a trivial matter.

The snake within him had attempted to reason with his noble side, attempted to tell him "_No, no, Regulus, no, no… You have your whole life in front of you…_" His other side was angry. It knew that he would feel terrible guilt until he made things right, or tried to.

"_And this is not a trivial matter, Black. This is helping whoever who will destroy the Dark Lord. Think of others. You want to prove to Sirius, Merlin knows where he is, that you are worthy, right? You want to prove to him that you're not evil… Well, do it, Black. Do it – and someday, someday you will receive recognition._"

Regulus had shut out his logical side.

A bit of time later, he Apparated into their new Headquarters, who were at Jugson's house, letter in hand. He would give this to the Dark Lord, and be done with… Then he would head and destroy the Horcruxes, or at least one of them.

He was greeted at the door by three of his comrades: Bellatrix, Malfoy, and Severus. She cackled at him.

"Where're you going, little _wittle_ Regulus?" she sneered. Without warning, she snatched the letter from his hand.

Well, that was Bellatrix for you – wild, unpredictable, utterly, _utterly_ mad.

"You want to destroy the Dark Lord?" Bellatrix began dancing, twirling her wand. "Reg wants to _dwestwoy_ the Dark Lord! Regulus wants to commit _suicide_! Regulus is a little **coward**!"

"_Muffliato_," Severus said calmly, before any of the other Death Eaters or the Dark Lord himself could hear.

"Child," Malfoy viewed him distastefully, his grey eyes flickering from Bellatrix to him, "Child, how _awfully_ naïve of you."

"Belt it," Regulus said angrily, attempting to Summon his letter.

Severus, who had taken to watching to the younger wizard's mentorship in the inner circle, flicked his wand lazily and the letter erupted into flames. Bellatrix gave an outraged howl and began screeching at him.

"Snape! You little bastard! How dare you –"

"Yes, Bellatrix," Severus drawled. "How dare me. Kill me all you want, for it is common knowledge that you are most infatuated with the Dark Lord, and he shan't look at you again after this little… er… slip."

Malfoy looked as if he were trying hard to not laugh and contented himself with a smirk.

Bellatrix growled at him, but pursued her lips and left, her nose high.

"That got rid of her," Malfoy nodded approvingly. "Very good, Severus."

Severus had a satisfied look and bowed his head. "Thank you, Lucius."

"Black," the blond man frowned. "If what Bellatrix said were not mere delusions from her mad self, then be warned that the Dark Lord does not take a 'no' lightly. Boy, if you value your life as a true Slytherin does, please reconsider this foolishness."

"I will," better not let them know the complete truth.

Malfoy swept from the room, but Severus remained. He turned, and saw the slight, handsome boy that had found his way into their wannabe Death Eater gang at Hogwarts. He saw his young friend's determination shine through him – for the Black brothers were not that different, after all – and pitied him. That, Severus did not like. He did not want to feel anything. That was why he became a Death Eater, in the first place – to rid himself of his hurt, of his pain.

"You were lying to Lucius, Regulus, were you not?"

"How do you know?"

"I learnt Legilimency from Narcissa – your cousin," he nodded approvingly. "She is certainly not as shallow and vain as she seems to be."

"Why do you care if I lied?" Regulus could feel his temper rising. "Look, I'm leaving – I'm tired of this."

There was a pause. "Suit yourself," Severus replied in a smooth tone. "However, Regulus… Lucius was right. Should you continue with your plan, it will most certainly get you killed." He inched closer, his empty black eyes on the former Seeker's face. "Do you want that, Regulus? I did not train you to be like us in vain, I hope… Do you want the Dark Lord to kill you?"

"There's a reason… A reason why I must do it, even if it kills me," Regulus muttered. "You wouldn't understand, Severus…"

Severus blinked, and then composed himself.

"Goodbye, then, Regulus," he said softly. "If this is the last time we meet, when we part ways, then I want a guarantee your sacrifice will not be in vain."

"It will not," the boy nodded. He had a half-hearted wave.

"Goodbye to you too, Severus."

Severus watched the boy he had considered as a little brother leave, and then, sighing, went upstairs to join Lucius and the others. He had a feeling this was not the last death he wouldn't be able to prevent, in a long time.

* * *

><p>Regulus Apparated back at Grimmauld Place, practically shaking with grief. He was surprised he hadn't Splinched himself.<p>

Of course, his elder had been right… They would never see each other, ever again. He would never see the sparkle in his usually dead eyes when he spoke of the Dark Arts, the halo his dark hair became when the gentle spring breeze blew… He would never see the soft shine of his pale skin against the moonlight – not freakishly pearly-white shining like the Dark Lord's – never hear his drawling, contemptuous voice, ever again.

He should have waited for all of his friends to be reunited, so they would have one last night out…

But _no_, he went to save the world.

Regulus shook his head. He was too young to think such bitter thoughts-

Given his current situation, he would always be young.

"Kreacher!" he called once he had reassured his mother that yes, he was still alive.

"Yes, Master Regulus?" said a deep, bullfrog-like voice from the depths of a particularly somber, dirty cupboard in the kitchens. "Kreacher was called by Master Regulus?"

"Yes…" Regulus closed his eyes. "Kreacher, I order you to take me to the cave where you went with the Dark Lord."

Kreacher was silent for a moment, and he saw the old elf's eyes fill up with tears. However, he wiped them away so quickly that Regulus might have imagined it.

"If that is what Master Regulus wishes… Kreacher will have to obey his master. Take Kreacher's hand."

A loud crack – Regulus opened his eyes and saw that they were standing on a rock, facing a black lake. In the middle, there was a place in the middle where a basin rested.

So _this_ was where the Dark Lord had brought his beloved house-elf.

"How do we get to the middle?" he asked. "I have a hint that a Summoning Charm would be too simple. The Dark Lord wouldn't do that."

Kreacher swallowed audibly. "Master… We must find the boat."

"The boat?"

"Wait…" Kreacher snapped his fingers. "There… Master Regulus, do you see it?"

Regulus squinted into the darkness. "Yes," he said quietly. "Come, Kreacher. We're taking the boat."

The old elf whimpered, but nodded.

Regulus was careful to not touch the water, as to not provoke the Inferi. Upon arriving in the island in the middle, he looked at the basin. He knew he couldn't Vanish or Transfigure the liquid within, so he cupped up his hands and began to drink, ignoring Kreacher's pleas.

Before he did so, however, he dropped the family's most prized locket that he had nicked from his father's bedroom – Sirius would be proud – into Kreacher's palms. "When the basin will be empty, switch the lockets. Then, I want you – no, I _order_ you – to go home, tell nothing to Mother about my death, and destroy the basin's locket."

He drank, saw terrible, terrible things – just as Kreacher had told him. He saw Sirius dead, the Dark Lord, Bellatrix, and Malfoy laughing over his dead body. He saw his parents mad with grief, crying over his empty grave. He saw Severus being tortured, writhing and bleeding on the floor. He saw Avery and Mulciber chained up in Azkaban, screaming for mercy.

His last conscious thought before feeling a gentle pull, that he imagined to be Severus, and being dragged beneath the water to become one of those mindless monsters was-

_I will not have died in vain. The Chosen One will destroy him, with my help. _

He did not know who the Chosen One was, but it didn't matter. All he could fathom was that, _that person_ would make sure that he had not died in vain – that his sacrifice hadn't been in vain.

And Regulus Arcturus Black smiled as he did not fight the Inferi's pull, for he was dying anyways, and honestly, what was the use of serving a master he would always despise?

* * *

><p><strong>Oof, this was hard to write - I never wrote Regulus before, but there's always a first - was interesting. I might have loosened a few strings, but I don't really like writing it to close to canon. I tried my best to base this of from Kreacher's tale in my beaten up copy of DH. <strong>

**Next up is - Forever and ever: Andromeda**

**After that is - Love: Teddy **

**Please read and review! **


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